Five-Dollar Coffee
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: "Well, what I see is a bunch of worker drones who just come in, do their jobs, then go home to their boring lives. . . Those people out there . . . they don't know how to have fun anymore. . ." Michael waved a hand and scoffed. Pam looked unsure. "And what did you want me to do?" "I want you to go out and get everyone's coffee orders, and I want you to go on a coffee run."


**_Soli Deo gloria_**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own The Office. I know I already wrote a one-shot about a coffee run, but coffee runs are _fun_ to write about.**

Michael sat in his swivel chair; papers that needed to be read over and signed littered his desk. He ignored them vehemently by instead staring out over his employees on the work floor. The typical office sounds could be heard: the beeping of a copier machine, the rustle of papers in Accounting, typing at Dwight's desk, Erin answering the phone with, "Good morning, Dunder Mifflin."

It was too boring. Too typical. Who were these people in front of him? Who was Jim Halpert, Dwight Schrute, Ryan Howard? Michael didn't like to think that this was what they'd all become—seat-warmers with nine-to-fives. No! They were all best friends! They loved coming to work! They loved their workplace and their jobs and their boss! Most of all their boss, of course.

Michael pressed a button on his telephone. "Erin, call Pam in here."

A click, then Erin's voice: "What do you need Pam for?"

Michael hid his hint of impatience. "Something super important. Don't worry about it. Just send in Pam."

"Well, I can do it. She's probably busy."

"No, this—this is most definitely a Pam thing."

"Do you need someone to massage your feet again? Is this because she has smaller hands than me?" Erin sounded worried.

"No, it's not a foot-massage thing, Erin—" Michael scoffed.

"I know that she used to be like this super-cool receptionist, but I'm the receptionist now, and I can be super-cool too!"

"Erin, it's nothing personal. Just send Pam in."

"Okay. Will do." Erin let go of the button on the phone and muttered to herself as she walked to Pam's desk. "Nothing personal. Yeah, sure. Okay." She stopped in front of Pam and said angrily, "Michael wants to see you. _In his office._ "

Pam and Jim exchanged a worried look as Erin stalked away. "Why is Erin so mad? Did I do something wrong?" Pam wondered aloud.

Jim leaned back in his chair, shrugging. "It's Michael. You never can tell."

"No, you really can't." Pam got up. Jim touched her arm as she passed by him. "Let me know how it goes. I could always use a good laugh."

Pam smiled. "I will."

She knocked on Michael's door respectfully, and he answered with, "Enter, if _you dare_."

Pam _did_ dare. "Michael, you wanted to see me. Was this about the quarterly report?"

"No, no. Sit down, Pam." Michael waved her towards a chair.

Michael rarely offered her a chance to sit down. Pam sat cautiously on the edge of the chair, unsure about where this conversation would go.

Michael spent a moment in silent, his fingers steepled over his nose. He finally straightened and said, "Pam, I feel that a boss should be able to understand his employees. He should know them, befriend them, trust them. They, in turn, should know their boss, be _his_ friend, trust _him_."

"Michael, were you betrayed by somebody?" Pam asked, concerned.

"What? No! No. At least," Michael said thoughtfully, "I don't think so. Pam, what do you see out there?" He looked outside the window.

She followed his gaze. "I see . . . desks. Computers. My coworkers working. My husband making a funny face at me. . ." She turned back to Michael. "What do _you_ want me to see?"

"Well, what _I_ see is a bunch of worker drones who just come in, do their jobs, then go home to their boring lives. Which is bad. I am the boss of this environment and this is a dangerous environment. This is bad."

"Productivity . . . is bad?" Pam said, just so Michael could really understand what his words meant.

"Very bad. Those people out there . . . they don't know how to have fun anymore. This place used to be funny. Fun. Now look at it. It's gone to the dogs." Michael waved a hand and scoffed.

Pam looked unsure. "And what did you want me to do?"

Michael pulled out his wallet with a smile. "Something fun for the office, Pam. Here." He handed her a couple of twenties. "I want you to go out and get everyone's coffee orders, and I want you to go on a coffee run."

"Oh, Michael. That's so nice of you." Pam stood up.

"But—but—but before you leave, come in here and tell me what everyone's ordering," Michael said.

Pam stopped and studied him. "Why?"

"Curiosity. That's all, Pam." Michael gave her a grin that only made her sigh; this _would_ be a Michael Scott harebrained scheme. Still, she went out and closed the door quietly behind her.

Jim looked at her over the top of his chair. "Hey," he said, offering a hand which she gratefully took, "how'd it go in there?"

"Well, it wasn't a serious matter concerning my quarterly report as I thought it would be," Pam said.

"Oh, good. Then what was it?"

Pam held up the cash. "Michael wants me to go get everyone coffee."

"Coffee?" Jim and Erin said in unison—Jim in confused incredulity, Erin in anger that _that_ was the important task Pam had been graced with. "Did he fall and hit his head again and forget that we have a coffeemaker in the break room? And one in the kitchen? And one by the front desk?" Jim asked.

Pam shrugged. "He thinks this place has become a mindless hive and he wants to liven things up."

"By buying everyone here a five-dollar coffee?" Jim said.

"Yes."

"Why am I even amazed at this point?"

"I don't know. So, what do you want?"

"Uh, nothing." Jim raised his work mug that said WORLD'S BEST DADDY on it. He smiled. "Already got my coffee, from the _break room_."

"You know, Michael's offering to pay. You don't have to make a point over a cup of coffee," Pam reminded him gently.

"Why not? I can prove that I'm not mindless, that I know what I want. I'm proving a point to Michael _and_ not drinking a five-dollar coffee," Jim said cheerfully.

"Jim, in refusing the kindness and generosity of our boss, you're proving yourself as the insubordinate anarchist I've always said you were," Dwight said flatly from across the desk.

"Also, I can make Dwight mad." Jim grinned.

Pam smiled at him and said calmly, "Dwight, what kind of coffee do you want?" She grabbed a pen and paper from Jim's desk and waited patiently.

Dwight leaned back in his chair. "Hmmm, an interesting question you pose to me. What kind of convoluted latte with sickeningly sweet syrups and fattening milk do I want to drink today? Hmmm, what could it be?" He dropped his fake tone. "I want a coffee. Large. Black. I will add my own homegrown honey that I keep in my desk."

Pam blinked. "Okay. Sounds good." She gave Jim's shoulder a special squeeze before going to the next desk.

"Is it all-organic honey?" Jim said, just to provoke Dwight into a rant.

When asked what kind of coffee he wanted, Stanley said, "I just want a black coffee like every other coffee I ever have when I go to work."

"Stanley, Michael's paying. You can get any kind of coffee you want; you could get something you don't get at the office everyday," Pam suggested.

"I don't care about fancy coffees, I just want my plain ol' routine, thank you very much."

"A tea. A nice, calm, unadulterated tea. Decaf. Chamomile. That's all." Angela sat back in her seat, watching Pam's hands busily writing down her order, watching for any mistake in her order.

"Okay. . . and Oscar, what do you want?"

"Just a green tea. Thank you, Pam." Plain and drama-free, as Oscar tried to keep it.

"No problem, Oscar. What about you, Kevin?"

Kevin was quiet for a while before he said, "I want a bre-ve lat-te."

"Ohhhh, sounds fancy. What's that?" Pam wondered curiously.

"It's a latte, but it's made with half 'n' half, so it's like the best latte _ever_ ," Kevin explained.

Angela sniffed. "Also the fattiest. Still, I suppose there are more sugary drinks you could've chosen. Things could be worse."

Kevin threw her a look across the desk, not amused.

"Creed, Meredith, Phyllis, what kind of coffee would you guys like? I'm going on a coffee run," Pam said as she came to their desks.

"Cortado, with four shots total," Creed said automatically, before going back to his Solitaire game.

"Do they serve any alcoholic drinks at coffee shops?" Meredith wanted to know.

"No. That's why there're bars," Pam said, looking at the camera with a 'HELP' look on her face.

Meredith sighed, disappointed. "Just a straight black coffee." She breathed out, like she was nursing a hangover.

"I want a cappuccino. You make sure it has whole milk, not skim, Pam. Unlike some people, I can take the extra calories," said Phyllis in her faux-sweet voice.

Pam gave her a quick look, wondering if that was a dig at her post-baby weight. She decided to not give Phyllis the satisfaction and went over to Erin. "Erin, hey. I'm taking coffee orders—"

"I know." Erin refused to look at Pam. The computer screen was _much_ more interesting.

"Um, I was wondering what you'd like."

"Oh, I don't drink coffee."

Pam was taken back. Erin was so bubbly and energetic—and that was just her natural personality? "Oh, well. They have other non-coffee drinks."

"I just want hot chocolate. With whipped cream and extra chocolate drizzle." Erin was like a robot, she was so intent on her work. She added, "That's all," and took the phone, saying, "Good morning, Dunder Mifflin," even though there was no one else on the other end of the line.

Pam stood there a moment; she blinked, sighed, and went next to Andy, who was practically falling out of his seat. She could tell that he was obviously eavesdropping on her short exchange with Erin.

"Good morning, Andy. As you know, Michael's—"

"Hot chocolate," he said without a single flinch.

"Hot chocolate," Pam said slowly.

"Yes. Without a shadow of a doubt, I want hot chocolate." He cast lovey-dovey eyes at Erin; despite his being in the immediate proximity of Pam, Erin looked at him, and tried in vain to hide the little pleased smile on her face.

Pam could easily tell _why_ he wanted hot chocolate. Still, she added, "Okay, if you're sure. But um, don't you want anything with coffee in it?"

"Does coffee have caffeine in it?"

Pam blinked. That was a kinda stupid question. "Yes, it does."

"Then, um, yeah, actually, put coffee in the hot chocolate. If I don't have caffeine in the morning, I get this horrible, debilitating headache. It's . . . just horrible. Yeah, actually, can you make sure it's got like three shots in it or something?" Andy said hurriedly. The urgency in his voice made Pam think he'd rethought what a morning with just plain hot chocolate would look like and didn't like the results.

"So . . . a mocha. With whipped cream?"

"Extra." Andy gave her an earnest grin, which reminded her fondly of an overgrown, eager kid. She smiled and wrote this down.

Next was the Annex. Pam would've gone immediately to Toby but he was in the bathroom. So she sighed, buckled up for the ride, and sought out Ryan. "Ryan, hi. Michael's getting everyone coffee—"

"I want a twelve ounce decaf soy latte with an extra shot and two pumps sugar-free vanilla. Extra-hot." Ryan looked at Pam with an unnerved expression as she 'bout twisted her wrist writing it down quickly so she wouldn't forget it. Then he turned back to typing ever-so-slowly.

Pam hesitantly approached Kelly.

"Oh my gosh, I shouldn't get anything. I've gained so much weight, it's stupid." A second passed, in which Kelly blinked and said, "Pam, you're supposed to say that I look great!"

"Oh. Um, you look great, Kelly." Pam waved a hand to her with a quick smile.

Kelly scoffed. "Ugh, you're just saying that." She pondered this coffee matter over a moment before saying, "Is Ryan getting something?"

Pam glanced at her paper. "Well, yeah. We're all getting something, except Jim—"

"I'll get something, but only so Ryan and I can sit and have drinks together. We'll be like so cute and hipster-y and stuff. Oh, now I'm excited." Kelly straightened in her swivel chair and clasped her hands and said proudly, "I want a dirty chai latte made with almond milk."

Pam took a second to write this down and said (without sighing. A real accomplishment), "Sounds good."

Just then Erin popped around the corner. She looked like the harbinger of death. "Pam, Michael wants you back in his office."

"But, I haven't gotten to Toby yet—"

"If you're going to be his errand girl, you could at least do what he _says_ ," Erin snarled before disappearing.

Pam looked alarmed; she looked at Kelly for advice; Kelly shrugged. "She's jealous. Whatever."

"Jealous? Of what? Me being at Michael's beck and call? I'm the office administrator—this is an intern's job!"

"Michael obviously values you more than he values Erin. Duh." Kelly turned back to her own work, flipping a pink pen with a feathery eraser around her hand.

Pam shook her head, but looked concernedly in Erin's direction as she came to Michael's office. Erin was busy working, typing away at her computer. She seemed unusually focused on her task at hand.

Jim gave Pam a questioning look. She shrugged. He shrugged. She shrugged again and knocked on Michael's door.

"Pam, come in, come in!" Michael stood up as she closed the door behind her. He rubbed his hands together. "What'd everyone want?"

Pam went down the list and was interrupted by Michael immediately. "What does Ryan want? I'll get whatever he's getting."

"You really want a 'twelve ounce decaf soy latte with an extra shot and two pumps sugar-free vanilla. Extra-hot'?" Pam raised her eyes from her paper, concerned.

Michael paced the room. "Yes, exactly. That is exactly what he wants."

 _Pam looked at the camera. "Michael takes five sugars in his coffee. I know. I've made him a lot of coffee. A lot of plain ol', not decaf or soy-laden, coffee. I'm starting to see Jim's point."_

"Hey, Michael, maybe you wanna try something different, something that's more familiar—" Pam tried but in vain.

Michael waved his hand. "No, get me exactly what Ryan's getting. He's smart, and cool, and hip, and knows what kind of coffee the kids drink these days."

"Michael," Pam said slowly, "soy's dairy-free."

"So?"

"And the coffee's decaf. Like, no caffeine."

"So?"

"And there's no sugar in it."

"So?"

"Michael, I don't think you're going to like that kind of coffee," Pam informed him kindly.

"How do you know? I've never tried it. You could be keeping me from the best experience of my life!"

"Michael—"

"Matter settled. Pam, what's Jim getting?"

Pam held the paper to her sweater, sighing. "He doesn't want to get anything."

"He doesn't?"

"No. He says coffee from shops is overpriced."

"Well, what's the point of getting everyone in the office coffee if the coolest guy in the office doesn't join us? I mean, what's the point?"

"There are the other ten people in the office who will enjoy the coffee very much, Michael," Pam reminded him.

Michael sat down and sighed. "Whatever. Just, go get the coffee."

"Um, I didn't get Toby. He was in the bathroom. I'll just go get his order—"

"You snooze, you lose. Toby missed out, his fault, no coffee for Toby. Just go, go, Pam."

Pam wanted to say more, maybe make Michael feel better, but he seemed intent on staring at the floor and sighing. She opened the door and almost stepped out, but stopped to say, "Hey, Michael?"

"What is it, Pam?"

"Do you think . . . Erin's jealous of me?"

"Why would Erin be jealous of you? She's the cooler person—no offense."

Pam sighed. "None taken."

Jim watched her as she grabbed her keys from her purse. "You okay, babe?" he asked.

She gave another look at Michael's office, and then at Erin ignoring her. "I think I need a kiss," she said.

Jim quickly obliged her. "Need help carrying coffee?" he asked, eager to get out of the office.

Pam thought to herself. "I think so." She looked past Jim. "Not you, though." She determinedly marched to the front desk and put her purse down. "Erin, come help me get the office coffee."

"I think you've got that job under control, unless it's too overwhelming for you," Erin said in a flat voice.

"I think it'd be better done with a friend," Pam said.

Erin wanted to say, "Well, ask someone else, 'cause we're not friends," but she instead looked up. She and Pam weren't exactly friends, but they weren't exactly enemies. Not friends, but not acquaintances. They were Michael Scott's right-hand women. Pam was offering her an olive branch.

Erin brightened. "Okay, let's do this."

They took Pam's Mom car and went through the drive-thru of a local chain. Pam drove up and Erin leaned over and rattled off the orders Pam had written down like an auctioneer. "Did you get all that? You did? Good." Erin sat back in her seat with a look of triumph.

Pam looked at her in amazement. "Where did _that_ come from?" she asked as she drove slowly around the building.

"I used to radio DJ a little," Erin shrugged, like no deal.

"That's so cool! What would you talk about?"

"Well, a bunch of stuff. Commentary on all the latest happenings, and celebrity gossip, and girl bands. . ." A pretty laidback conversation unfolded between them as they secured their dozen, give or take, coffees, and drove back to Dunder Mifflin with little-to-no major mishaps.

They were greeted with eager faces as they came through the front door into the office. Erin hurried to the Annex and came back to share a drink at Andy's desk. ("Oh, you got a chocolate drink too? So did I. That's so cool," Andy said, like it was all mere coincidence instead of careful planning.)

Pam brought Michael his drink after she'd given Accounting and Dwight theirs. As soon as she came into his office, Michael said, "Pam, I've changed my mind, I don't want whatever the heck Ryan made up. It sounds stupid and gross and—"

She put his drink down on his desk. It was in a cold cup, blended, and covered in whipped cream. "I got you a mocha milkshake," she said.

"Pam, you mind-reader. You're so good at what you do. How'd you know that I wouldn't want Ryan's drink?" Michael was unbelievably amazed.

"I know you. Also, I'm a mind-reader." She glanced over her shoulder with a little smug smile. "Duh." She paused at the door and said, "Thanks for getting everyone coffee, Michael. We really do appreciate it, and we appreciate _you_."

Michael blushed a little. "Ah, thanks, Pam."

She smiled and closed the door before she went and stood next to Jim. "How are you enjoying your office coffee this morning?" she asked innocently.

"Well, it tastes weaker than usual, but I'll swallow it down just the same." He took a sip to prove his point, and grimaced.

She put down her tray. On it remained two drinks. She handed him one, and answered the questions his face asked. "An Americano with two sugars for you," she picked up her drink, "and a decaf coffee with cream and Stevia for me. _Together_ they cost five dollars."

Jim looked at her wonderingly. "You've never looked so gorgeous before."

She laughed and he smiled and gave her a warm kiss.

Pam sat down at her desk and looked over at Andy's. Erin laughed at one of Andy's jokes before glancing over at Pam. She raised her hot chocolate with a smile. Pam smiled back and held up her decaf coffee. They had a silent, symbolic toast across the office.

 **Thanks for reading!**


End file.
